The Window
by masarin
Summary: It had always been his window. And it had been hers to wait by. A little bit revised. Wendy/Peter. R


> **Disclaimer:** Peter Pan belongs to Wendy.
> 
> Wendy belongs to the ingenious mind of J. M. Barrie.
> 
> And so does Peter Pan, actually. And Hook. And Neverland.
> 
> I, however, own…the window. . /
> 
> **A.N: **Based on the movie, by the way, not on the book, as I haven't read it yet (as much as I would be like to be able to say that I have). Oh, woe is me.
> 
> **A.N(ii):** A little bit revised:)
> 
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> 
> **The Window **
> 
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> 
> It has always been your window.
> 
> I'm not quite sure when it started being your window, it might have been yesterday, it might have been a year ago, for all I know it might even tomorrow that it happened. Time does not mean what it used to.
> 
> People tell me it is a childish, insincere love that resides within me. I tell them differently. I might not be aware of what strong love is – how it entrances the mind and the heart. This might not be love, but then again, love is just a word. This feeling I have for you means much more than a word. It envelops me in a shroud of longing, sorrow, loneliness; even hope at times, when I look out the window to catch sight of a star upon the oblivious night sky.
> 
> If this feeling isn't love, then love never meant enough.
> 
> Yet... even _this_ sort of love can have it's doubts. I think my doubting your return began one evening, long after bedtime, when John approached me, that wary look in his eyes, his glasses askew and his hair in a tumble. He looked worried.
> 
> "Don't you think it's time you closed that window, Wendy?" He asked me, but his question swept by like a breeze. I simply leaned back against the wall beside the window. I felt exhausted but ready to wait the whole of forever for you. I don't think he would understand. He would never be ready to understand. _He would never give anyone a thimble._
> 
> He told me I would have to give you up. I told him to go away, so he did, and I went back to gazing into that pitch-black sky, full of so much expectation. So much hope. So very _very_ much anxiety.
> 
> _I would never see you again, would I?_
> 
> No! Better to hope than to believe in failure. If it accomplishes nothing else, at least it can make you happy for the shortest of moments, even though they might mean nothing to others in the long run. These moments of waiting are worth more than I could ever express. _At least I have someone to wait for._
> 
> All I could wish for...was a moment. A moment of clarity, of sanity, of expectations coming true. I wonder how I would come by it. Maybe it would be a flutter in the wind, an echo of your cocky cowing, instant but hopeful. I would rather die than rid myself of what would come after that moment.
> 
> A sigh in the distance, perhaps it was my own, made me realize the misery crawling closer towards me, ready to pounce. It had sharpened claws, ready to strike and so very ready to aim.
> 
> Maybe it was time to close the window.
> 
> I stood, uncertainly, my legs swaying from the relief of finally standing up. I even felt a cramp in one of my legs. _Have I been sitting that long?_ I sighed once again, feeling like an old lady lost in the action of trying to accomplish nothing. I moved, as slowly as I could, towards the window to close it, giving you all the time in the world to appear in the night sky and fly me away to Neverland.
> 
> But that was not enough. Reluctantly, I pulled the window closed and locked it, my hands trembling on the latch. Was forever already over?
> 
> As I took a step away, my eyes trained on the sky, I did not hear your soft crowing in the distance. And as I turned, I did not see your wondrous eyes straining to catch sight of my retreating back.
> 
> I had turned my back on forever.
> 
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> 
> **_"Let us take a peep into the future, what is this I see, 'Tis the fair Wendy!"_**
> 
> "I'll fly in!" 
> 
> _  
**"The window is shut."**_
> 
> _  
"I'll open it!"_
> 
> **_"The window is barred."_** "I'll call out her name!" 
> 
> _  
**"She cannot hear you."**_
> 
> _"Wendy!"_
> 
> **_"She's forgotten all about you!"_**
> 
> _"No!!"_
> 
> _Perhaps the old man was right_. Peter's eyes lingered on the window were he was tracing Wendy's path with his eyes. Was he not man enough? Would he not call out her name? Did he not dare?
> 
> Of course he did! Maybe…not so much. Hook had put doubts in his mind, doubts that not even Wendy's sweet thimble could erase. Unaware of the tears in his eyes, he swore the vilest oaths a boy his age would know (and they were quite impressive, I must add) But Wendy did not hear him, did not scramble to open the window with open arms and invite him in. She wasn't there. She never appeared! _Damn her,_ he thought, _damn her away from that window forever! And curse that thimble of hers! _But Peter Pan meant none of it. His eyes, full of unshed tears, turned away from her window. His heart giving her a heartfelt goodbye, over and over and **over** again.
> 
> The emptiness of the sky had never seemed so vast to Peter Pan.
> 
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> 
> **A.N:** A little attempt at a Peter Pan fic, It's my first here, so a review or two wouldn't hurt. Please. .


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